


The Joke

by ixblaccatxi



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Irony, M/M, The Killing Joke, jack napier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixblaccatxi/pseuds/ixblaccatxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something amazing about a cup of coffee the can truly provide solace. Coming home to the cold Gotham before all the madness, before Batman, Bruce Wayne yearns for one. As an exercise to reacquaint himself with the city, he travels to the red light district for a good brew under a slightly different name and disguise. There he first meets the man who would be the Joker. They have a special connection. But they were never meant to be together. From cheating on wives to the rise of the Clown Prince of Crime, I bring forth a story that explains good ol' Mr. J's special obsession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Joke

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)  
> I'm not going to claim that this is my first fan fiction, but I am proud to say that it is the second. In case there is any confusion, the Joker's history is taken from the graphic novel "The Killing Joke" by Alan Moore. The name I am going to use for him is Jack Napier from both the TV shows and some comics.

There were many trials that stood against the Dark Knight as he began his ascent into vigilantism. Most of them, he easily forced to kneel before him. However, others still proved too strong a challenge. It was easy for him to contour his body. But a man isn’t only made of pure muscle. They have a mind and a beating heart too.

It was two years prior to his debut. Bruce had just come home after acquiring and mastering near expert martial art skills. The winter decided to loom over Gotham a bit longer, freezing the poor homeless chaps to the bone. Of course the affluent felt the chill as well, they were still regular people after all. And as people with cash would do, the to be Batman decided to take warmth in a cup of coffee. 

He would have been more than delighted to partake in Alfred’s brew, but decided that it would be best for him to get to know the city once more. Small things were bound to change over time, and to a large and chaotic city such as Gotham, every tiny aspect counts. Every single building and every single life in the city was connected to each other and, one way or another, will affect their metropolitan ecosystem in different ways. Such would be negligible if he did’t leave for such a long time. But now, he might as well be a stranger to his own city.

What better way to reacquaint himself with this new world than to go to the roughest neighborhood in town and blend in. Acquiring an authentic Gotham coffee blend while he’s at it. The red light district was the perfect place. He couldn’t wear his usual brands, less he gets mugged or bugged into buying things. There was only one coffee shop in the strip. In that sense, it was famous. However, at the same time, it wasn’t anybody’s first choice. It had the taste of Gotham, thats all Bruce needed.

He entered the shop; a small bell rings to announce his presence. The old and cheep jacket he wore made his identity and economic situation almost unrecognizable to the small mass of people warming themselves up inside the store. However, it was, by no mistake, clear that this was his first time there. To a seasoned employee, it was more than obvious. His eyes that scan the surrounding, the long glares at the menu, the lingering by the door and so on and so forth.

“Excuse me Sr.? Would you need any help?” an employee called the billionaire’s attention from behind the counter.

“Ah! Sorry,” Bruce turned towards the voice and approached the counter. He faced the employee, still looking up at the menu. He was thinking about the him, his question of aid appeared to be genuine although his words did not. To a certain extent, this intrigued Bruce as most aspects of him home did

“I recommend the Americano. But, if thats out of your budget, we do have regular store bought coffee.” He said it as though it was the biggest asset of their restaurant. It made sense, considering that they were in one of the poorer districts. The employee was also smiling. It was nothing out of the usual as such behavior was typical coffee shops, but they were usually empty. This one had a sense of warmth.

“Americano,” he attempted to sound a bit rude to indirectly convey that he lived in the area, or at least a rough one. He patted his coat, searching about his being for cash as to  fabricated the impression he wasn’t loaded. Bruce then handed it over to the cashier.

Jack, as the employee name tag said, took the money and played the cash register. “So, what would you name be?” Bruce glared at him in a hostile manner as though he felt that the stranger was getting too familiar. He was being in character.

There was a tiny little glare of fear in the employee’s eyes. Jack raised his hands defensively, “For the coffee,” he quickly explained himself.

“Bruce,” he replied rather coldly. The employee was still smiling. He needed to seem even the slightest bit rough and gruff as his current persona, Bruce Wax, had a hard life. He made a whole entire story in his head. Who his parents were, what happened to them, why he isn't so trusting, why he always seemed suspicious of others; A story of a hardened man.

He took his seat somewhere close to a window to make himself look wishful. Secretly, this was Mr. Wayne’s preferred placement, however he would like to think that Mr. Wax does it because he strongly longs to escape the unfortunate life that he had made for himself.

Bruce brings out a notebook from his pocket, just so he doesn’t seem too idle. If he wasn’t careful someone might come and talk to him. That may have been beneficial to his purpose, however now was not a good time. He had a festering fear that somehow one of the Gothamites might recognize him as the public persona that he was if Wax’s history and background wasn’t air tight. As of now, it wasn’t. Bruce reckons that it would be some day.

He began to doodle and write random words, mere chicken scratch on paper. At a certain point, he decided to look up. It wasn’t as though there were a lot of customers for his order to take so long. What he saw was the employee fretting. Apparently, something was broken or maybe was not working properly. Bruce wasn’t really sure. Jack looked back at him in panic. He was a bit surprised to see the other looking at him. It was clear on his face that he felt as though he was in trouble, as though the mean Mr. Wax would come up to him and beat him to a pulp for bad service. And then he laughed.

This is, what Mr. Wayne could only imagine that it was to the irony of the situation. It looked too genuine, however. Could he be laughing because he found the struggle of life itself funny? Regardless of their truly different situations, that was something Bruce could understand. With the death of his parents, and with all the struggles he'd gone trough to one day protect his beloved city from itself. At that point he found it in him to laugh as well. 

Jack looked surprised. It was a strange moment of reciprocation that he had always longed for. He had always wanted someone to laugh at him, anyone. He was a comedian and it was his job. He had a show sometime late at night, everyday. He is getting payed, but it is all out of pity and thus not very much money. It is an addition that the manager knew his wife’s family, he was only looking out for her. He knew that at time will come when he will eventually loose that job. He worked in the coffee shop to help pay for the expenses of two. He really loved his wife an she really loved him, that was why they wed. But, it was young love, although he was in no sense still young. As the older folks say, such affection is often misguided.

The comedian stopped laughing, ending with a smile. Bruce did the same. All of a sudden all was right. Not necessarily with the world, but with the coffee. By some mystical force of nature, their laughter had made whatever that wasn’t working, fixed. In no time, the coffee was done.

Jack delivered it to Mr. Wax personally saying, “I’m sorry for the wait.” Again he said it all with a smile. It wasn’t only warmth on his lips, there was some appreciation as we’ll, and another new emotion. It was one that made him feel both as light as a cloud and as heavy as a boulder, yet no less happy. 

Bruce smiles back at him, mirroring the same emotion. The two parted ways after an hour, Mr. Wayne to his real life and Jack to his work. However, now there was a connection. One, that will pull the billionaire into that coffee shop multiple times and one that will draw Jack, the comedian, the Joker endlessly into the fists of The Batman.

**Author's Note:**

> I made this thing as a part of an application to a college organization. I am not sure if I aught to continue it or not. Please like, comment, share (idk what people do in Archive of Our Own) if you like it so that I'd know whether it is wise to go on...... or not.


End file.
